


An Alternate History

by Blue



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue/pseuds/Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months pregnant and unwelcome in her father's house, Hunith has come to Camelot to serve as her brother Gaius's assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Alternate History

Bearing a babe nearly eight months along was no time to be travelling, Hunith decided, let alone on the spare, hard seat of a swaying, creaking wagon. Not that she couldn't have sussed out such a thing without first hand experience, but it was good to remind oneself of the value of a learning experience while it was occurring. Otherwise a lady might engage in entirely un-ladylike activities, such as swearing a streak blue enough to make the man at arms beside her conclude his deductions about her character were entirely correct. Instead, she bit her lip against the constant aches and pains, and the sense that her ungainly figure would imbalance and topple over the side at any moment.

They were less than a day's ride from their destination -- after two long, painful weeks -- and she hadn't looked so forward to seeing her older brother since she was a girl. Of course then it had been him returning home to visit whereas now it was her fleeing to him in exile (and wasn't _that_ a bitter liquid, but she wouldn't have believed her story either and this way, at least, she had the luxury of living a lie rather than the shame of truth).

She had been fantasizing repeatedly that her brother would greet her with open arms and put their father's man and his sneering superiority in his place with one look, but the truth was that she had no idea yet how Gaius would react. His letter was tucked carefully in the pocket of her cloak, safe from the dew brought on by the lingering chill of late fall, but she had memorized it before she'd even left home. It was simple, absent of his often colorful tales of Albion and Camelot, but that could simply be his precaution against further riling their father's anger (the assumption that all her correspondence would not pass directly to her at this point was both safe and correct).

Hunith sighed quietly and shifted to lessen the discomfort, willing the ride to pass more quickly even as the child in her belly moved restlessly.

+

To her relief, and almost embarrassing gratitude, Gaius did indeed greet her with open arms while he took the measure of the man assigned the task of accompanying her with a single glance. Gaius was not impressed if his tone was anything to go by, and the stable boy that appeared at his elbow seemed to pick up on the same thing, given the imp's devilish grin. Hunith tried very hard for several moments to feel badly about either of those things, but didn't quite manage it and quickly gave it up in favor of smiling sweetly and thanking him for his company on the long trip. If there was any acid in her tone, Gaius politely didn't call her out on her behavior as anyone back home surely would have.

+

They had barely finished dinner (a profound relief after the traveling rations of the last couple of weeks) when a young maid came knocking, pale and fretful with darkened circles beneath her eyes. Gaius sighed deeply upon seeing her before any words were spoken. He went to the cluttered worktable, selected two vials and, almost as an afterthought, a scrap of blanket that had been folded and set on the edge nearest the door.

"Would you like to accompany me?" he asked Hunith. "I must see to a patient."

Hunith glanced down at her dusty clothes and muddied shoes, well aware of how desperately her hair needed washing. "Like this?"

Gaius smiled, but it was wan. "Prince Arthur is not yet two years of age. I hardly think he'll mind."

Which was how she found herself standing in the royal nursery, still travel stained, listening to the weak, thready wails of a desperately unhappy child. Someone had drug him bodily from under the table, as the nursemaid had relayed while they walked together down the long, chill corridors, which explained the scrapes on his knees and forearms, but while a child hiding (and a caretaker's impatience) were hardly unusual, the tenor of his cry was all wrong for a few scrapes. Hunith watched for a moment, the little princeling unresisting but turning his head away from Gaius as his cuts were daubed with a poultice that Hunith knew from her own experience stung quite noticeably. His cries were interspersed with hiccups now, but unceasing, despite Gaius's attempts to soothe him (although he clutched tightly the scrap of blanket Gaius had proffered upon entering). There were three other women in the room, one far too stern of mien for Hunith's liking and the other two looking worn clean through, staring helplessly at the Prince. None of them had moved to comfort him during his treatment.

Given the life she had been born into, it was perhaps surprising that Hunith was at heart a practical young woman. Even more so given her life of the last year, but maybe that was just fate playing a hand in things. She had never been good at standing idly by when a need presented itself, so, even as Gaius was stoppering the vial he'd opened, she reached down and lifted the boy awkwardly into her arms. He was shockingly light, so she could easily hold him along her side although she would have preferred to cradle him closer to her chest were her unborn not in the way. He startled out of his cry almost immediately, staring at her through pitifully red eyes and sniffling.

"Hi," Hunith said with a smile.

The Prince's eyes dropped to her torso and then he gingerly reached out and patted the top of her swollen belly. Looking back up he announced hoarsely, "SHELF!"

Hunith rolled her eyes and giggled.

+

The Prince's nannies, as it turned out, were only too happy to take advantage of their position to conscript Hunith into service. Thankfully, Gaius insisted that any child care be done back in his workshop so that he could "keep an eye on her in such an advanced state". Hunith suspected this was beneficial to herself and Arthur in other ways, but Gaius just feigned complete innocence when she asked him.

Arthur certainly was happier in the sunny, warm workshop than he was in the quiet chill of his nursery and Hunith didn't blame him. Within a week, he was spending his nights in the workshop as well as his days, which she worried would incite jealously or resentment among the servants. Gaius had laughed upon hearing her say so, though, and said that after two years, the entire castle was just grateful for the _quiet._

It was astonishing (to her anyway) how quickly she settled into life in Camelot. While she continued to chafe over limitations imposed upon her by a swollen midriff (bathing! shoes! _reaching!_), assisting Gaius and watching after a very mobile little boy kept her busy and the remaining days in her pregnancy flew by quickly until it seemed only a few hours had passed from her arrival to the wide-eyed moment when she found herself suddenly standing in a pool of fluid.

Arthur, standing on a bench with his arms in the air for the clean shirt Hunith was holding, looked down, lowered one arm to point at the puddle, and said with great confidence, "LEAK!" Then he raised his arm back up and waited expectantly for his shirt.

+

The next day, Arthur sat on the edge of Hunith's bed and glared at the sleeping baby in her arms. She'd already heard that he'd been a holy terror the night before. While she'd been in labor, he'd alternated between temper tantrums and agonized wailing at his confinement to the nursery. The entire castle had discovered that Prince Arthur could say "Hunith" with impressive clarity. Now he seemed intent on learning a new name, expressing it with all the disdain a two year old could muster.

"Muuuur-linn," he said, still scowling, and Hunith sighed. Really, Arthur looked like he was plotting how to quietly shove Merlin under the bed so he could have Hunith all to himself again.

+

Two years on, Hunith every now and then caught Arthur wearing precisely that same expression.

The only thing that could outrage Arthur more than Merlin was someone else usurping his role as Merlin's chief tormentor. The young son of a visiting lord had pinched Merlin and made him cry, whereupon Arthur had whacked the boy (mean little brat) upside the head with a very solid toy. Fortunately, Gaius was a dab hand with a needle and thread and the scar probably wouldn't even show once his hair grew out a bit. And the visiting lord couldn't be too irate, given the wound had been caused by the heir apparent.

All considered, she really felt quite lucky that Arthur had seized the toy out of mid-air and used it as he did. She had seen it in motion just as she'd flung open the door to find the source of the crying. When Arthur had grabbed it, she'd been relieved for a split second before he'd turned and taken the liberty of wielding the impromptu weapon himself. Merlin had stopped crying instantly and smiled while Arthur stood victorious over his fallen opponent and crowed, "MINE!".

That evening, in the privacy of the work room, Hunith hadn't been able to stop laughing, gasping out to a reluctantly amused Gaius that it went quite well for Arthur's first duel and he'd only been defending Merlin's honor.

+

Remarkably, the Prince and his shadow (as the castle staff so often referred to them) survived both childhood and adolescence intact. Whenever they weren't fighting like cats and dogs, they were engaging in some mischief sure to have them both in a world of trouble. They were as alike as they were different -- one dark haired and pale and perpetually thin as if his magic burned away all the food he could eat, the other blond and golden and muscled with bearing the weight of armor and sword and shield -- but that they were absolutely loyal to each other, no one who knew them would doubt.

From the battlement, Hunith wrapped her shawl a bit tighter against the cool breeze and smiled down at her boys, bickering amiably in the courtyard below. Uther had passed a few months before and Arthur had transitioned smoothly into the role of king, quickly ending the ban on magic and appointing Merlin as Court Magician. No one had been particularly surprised -- Merlin's magic had been the worst kept secret in Camelot with most everyone conspiring to keep it from Uther himself -- and Morgana had quipped that they were just glad Merlin was going to be around to act as Arthur's keeper.

Shaking her head in amusement (if she wasn't very much mistaken, they were arguing about whether or not the castle needed a moat and, if so, exactly how wide and deep it should be to accommodate a suitably intimidating creature), she turned away from the spectacle just as Guinevere appeared with a sweet smile to let her know tea was ready in her lady's chambers for the three of them. Glancing back one last time, Hunith decided that life may not be what you expect of it and was really quite surprising for the misfortunes that led to happy endings.

+

fin. *g*

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of the [prompts](http://community.livejournal.com/merlinxarthur/781943.html) [callista_mythol](http://callista-mythol.livejournal.com/) posted in [merlinxarthur](http://community.livejournal.com/merlinxarthur/). This is from #6: _Hunith, due to whatever circumstances, has to move to Camelot not long after Merlin's birth so that Gaius can help take care of them. Let's say Merlin and Arthur have 2 years between them and what if Hunith gets the job as Arthur's nanny/nurse? Here we have Toddler Arthur meeting Baby Merlin and deciding (as toddlers are prone to) 'Mine'. What would Arthur have been like with Merlin there from, essentially, day one?_ Big thanks to [green_grrl](http://green-grrl.livejournal.com/) for a very speedy beta!


End file.
